Part of Your World
by ThexInvisiblexGirl
Summary: When he looks at her, so beautiful and out of his reach, he can't help but think about The Little Mermaid.


**Part of Your World**

"You're staring again."

He blinks as the familiar voice disrupts his silent reverie. Reluctantly, he tears his gaze away from his object of observation. He turns and shoots a challenging glare at his brother. "So what if I am?"

Emmett doesn't flinch against the warning in his eyes. He returns the glare. "It's wrong."

"She's not one of us," seconds Rosalie.

"Mind your own business," he snarls.

"This _is_ our business," Jasper points out, "whether you like it or not."

"Edward, we've been through this last night," Emmett says; there is a hint of impatience to his voice, "and the night before, and the night before. It has to stop."

If it's been possible, this last statement would have physically hurt him. He looks away from Emmett, and his eyes meet Alice's. There is this glimmer in her eyes, visible beneath the seriousness of her expression. "You know what I think," she shrugs. He knows, of course, but it isn't helping when they are two against three.

He sighs, letting them win for now. He knows they're right, and he knows they're only trying to protect him, to protect _themselves_. And yet, words are one thing, and action is another, far more complicated. More than anything he wants to let go, to stop these stolen glances in her direction, to rid himself of the ridiculous dread of sitting next to her in Biology, of bumping into her in the hallway or in the parking lot. He knows what the others think; even if he couldn't read their minds, they don't try to conceal their disapproval. And he has already made the mistake of discussing it with Emmett, which has only made things worse.

He suspects that if Emmett has known the truth about his nightly visits to her bedroom, things could be far worse. Alice knows; he has never told her, but she could always read his mind better than anyone else. And even she, the most supportive, does not approve it. It's dangerous. Someone can see him. She can wake up and…

He has lost track of the conversation, and it seems as if the others have given up on him as well. He's determined to look ahead, not to turn and see what he wants to see, but it feels as if his willpower is crumpling like a tower of cards. He has to look. Even if it's for a brief moment, he has to look. He makes sure that Emmett is well-occupied before he sneakily looks back.

Mike Newton is whispering something in her ear, his head close to hers. She lowers her eyes as if embarrassed, and says something he can't make out. Slight blush rises in her cheeks. Mike is detecting her blush as well; he can punch him for looking so smug. But perhaps this is what she needs; a normal, _human_ guy to take interest in her. Not a monster.

Why her? What is it about her that makes all his defenses drop? He hardly knows himself when he's around her. He has never experienced something as intense as this. She isn't exceptionally beautiful or witty or intelligent. On the contrary; she's ordinary-looking, quite shy, and she seems to encounter trouble wherever she goes. Is it because he cannot read her as well as he can read the others? Possibly. But somehow it doesn't seem like a good enough reason.

And yet… she dazzles him, as simple as that. She seems to be unaware of it, or so he assumes. It's more likely that she fears him. He has given her enough reasons to do so. He hopes that remaining cold to her will bring him back to his senses and remind him how wrong it is. And if he cannot keep his distance, maybe she will be wiser to do so.

He scorns himself for his weakness. It should never have gotten to a point where _she_ has to be the wiser one when she is not even side of it. He shouldn't have let himself get there; he should have put an end to it long ago. He should have gone to Alaska and never come back. But he has let homesickness get hold on him, drive him back. And now he has to deal with the consequences.

When he looks at her, so beautiful and out of his reach, he can't help but think about _The Little Mermaid_. The analogy makes him feel ridiculous, but it's the same story, really; a human, a creature, an unrequited love. And look what has become on them. Not in the sugar-coated Disney version the youth of this generation seems to be so fond of, but in the original, darker story, the one his mother used to read to him when he's been a child. It never ends well. The sooner he grasps that, the better.

Before he knows it, she's on her feet, following her friends out of the cafeteria. He forces himself to look away as the noisy group passes their table. He can feel Emmett's reproachful gaze on him the whole time. When he's sure he's out of her sight he looks again. She's wearing blue today; it's his favorite color on her. Her hair is tumbling down her back and she runs a hand through it absent-mindedly as she disappears through the doors. The moment she does, he realizes he's been holding his breath again. There's something so graceful about her, and she's clearly oblivious to it. Even her name is magical. Isabella Swan. _Bella_. It rolls on his tongue, familiar although he doesn't dare uttering it aloud next to them. He knows better.

"We'd better go," Jasper says then, but he knows it before it's been said. He grabs his books and follows his siblings out of the cafeteria. He trudges behind them reluctantly. The thought of ditching Biology is tempting, but the bigger temptation lies in the classroom rather than out of it. He needs to see her, even though he has a moment ago. It's another thing he can't quite explain, this constant yearning.

He doesn't realize Alice has fallen into step alongside with him. She's humming something that he can't make out. And then when he does, he's furious. It's _Part of Your World_ from _The Little Mermaid_.

"Have you ever heard of this thing called privacy?" he hisses without looking at her or slowing his walk.

"Maybe if it wasn't so loud in your head," she backfires, giggling. Then, after a moment, she gasps and frowns. "Edward Cullen, that was mean!"

He smiles viciously, satisfied that his last piece of thought has been just as clear to her as the first one. "I'll see you later," he says before she manages another witty backfire. He ignores Emmett's warning glare as they separate. Biology is next, and Emmett knows it damn well. The hall is full with students on their way to class. He focuses on not crashing into one of them in an attempt to keep away what is really on his mind.

And then he enters the lab and it all surfaces again. It's like a punch to his stomach, hitting him full force. She doesn't notice him as he observes her from the door. She's reading; he's fascinated by the way she's obviously taken by the book. Or perhaps it's a way of distracting herself; he can only assume as much.

She raises her eyes to briefly acknowledge him as he takes his seat next to her. Her eyes hardly meet his. He knows he should be satisfied, for it means she _is_ scared of him. This is what he's been aiming for, after all, so he has no one to blame but himself. And then again… this is not what he wants.

He wants to compliment her, to comment about the way this shade of blue does wonders to her eyes. He wants to ask her what book she's reading so he'll be able to know if it's one of his favorites. He wants to make up an excuse to borrow her class notes. He wants to whisper in her ear and make her blush, like Mike Newton has done no more than an hour ago in the cafeteria. He wants to take her hand, the one that's turning the pages so slowly, to see if it's really as soft as it seems.

In short, he wants the sugar-coated version of the story. The one he cannot have. Not as long as he's the monster that he is.

The hustle slowly fades into silence as the class begins. This is when he suddenly feels her gaze on him. Caught off-guard, he turns to face her, a bit too abruptly. She holds back a gasp when she realizes she's been caught, but doesn't look away. There's this hesitant question in her eyes, as if she's waiting to see what he'll do next.

This is his chance to try and have that other version. But he looks at her again, and he knows at once he can never have it; for _her_ sake, if not for anything else.

It takes a lot of effort, but eventually he manages to shoot her a warning glare. It is the same glare that has left Emmett indifferent before. She shrinks away from it, lowering her eyes to her notebook.

It hurts. It hurts him more than it should, more than it could. But this is right. The right thing to do; and he knows it. This is how the story really ends, for the likes of him.


End file.
